


Expectations

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cunnilingus, FTM, FTM Dave, Nook, Other, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transgender, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:04:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's not nearly enough fic featuring male trolls with a Slot B and only a Slot B." - Kinkmeme prompt</p><p>Karkat has a nook and no bulge. Dave is FtM. Neither is quite expecting that, but neither of them objects. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> From a kinkmeme prompt: http://homesmut.dreamwidth.org/39135.html?thread=42063327#cmt42063327

You suck on Karkat’s bottom lip as he moves his hands up under your broken record shirt, his fingers warm against the gentle curve of your stomach, caressing your flesh until they reach higher and glide along the stiff fabric of your binder. He presses his hands against you, gently squeezing in the same sort of way he might do to your shoulders, and you realize with a thrill that it feels good, not dysphoric, having him treat your chest more like the pecs you’ve always wanted rather than the mounds of fat that puberty left there.

Your own arms hold him close, your legs wrapped around his waist. He hisses as you bite playfully, and kisses you more fiercely, his own sharper teeth threatening your mouth. Arousal coils within you, and you move in closer, your crotch pressed up against his abdomen, ass near his groin. You grind against him, titillating pain flitting through you as he nips at your lips again.

His hands are still running up and down your binder, caring but slightly awkward, and you’re suddenly impatient.

“You can take off my shirt, you know,” you say, reluctantly breaking your mouth away from his.

“That’d require you to let go of me,” he snaps, grabbing your shirt and half-pulling it up, stopping just below your armpits.

“Aww, do I have to, Karkles?” Still, you let go and raise your arms, smirking as he rolls his eyes before pulling your shirt off and dumping it unceremoniously onto the floor. You lunge in again as soon as it’s off, clasping his own and stripping it off him despite his surprised, half-hearted struggling.

“Fair’s fair,” you say.

“Fair? You’re still wearing something on your top half, not to mention your stupid shades,” Karkat complains, running his hands over his bare chest. It’s a subtly self-conscious gesture - and damn cute - but it just makes you want to touch him more. So touch him you do, grabbing him, hands flattening against his smooth back, pulling him in close, feeling the curves of his ribs through his skin.

“The binder’s not coming off, but if you get naked, I’ll take off my shades.”

“You fucking claim to just be playing fair, and then offer me those abysmally lopsided terms?”

You shrug. “You can take it or leave it. I know my shades are pretty sexy, so I don’t blame you if you want me to leave them on. Or maybe you just like seeing your own reflection in them, you self-obsessed freak. Trying to fantasize about you as your own kismesis again?”

He groans and pushes you away. You let him, tumbling back onto the bed and rolling to lay flat on your back, head against the pillow.

With neither grace nor even a cursory attempt to look sexy, he removes his socks and pulls off his pants. He’s wearing black briefs with a style that would be considered feminine by human standards.

“That’s not naked,” you remind him as he closes in, his face nearing yours for another kiss. You grab his ass, snaking your fingers along to the upper band of his underwear, pausing for answer.

“Maybe you should fucking fix that then,” he whispers, and you do.

As you pull the briefs down to his knees, he shifts to help you get them off, climbing out of them until he can kick them to the end of the bed. Naked, he’s a touch skinnier than you, but he lacks your frame’s subtle but tight muscle definition. Your eyes trail down and you notice with surprise that he’s not built exactly like you expected. There’s no bulge.

“What?” Karkat pauses with annoyance when he notices you looking just a moment too long. He looks uncertain for a second before understanding dawns on his face. “Right, with humans, it’s usually the other way around.”

“Usually,” you echo. “But,” you add with a grin, “it really doesn’t matter to me.”

“Are you - Argh!” His question is cut off by you catching him off guard, your hands flying to his hips and pulling him towards you.

“Get up here - no, not that way, dumbass,” you continue as he tries to place himself next to you, face near yours, “come on, flip turnways - yeah, just get your crotch up here.” After a few moments of confusion and him managing to almost elbow you in the face, he’s where you want him, straddling your face.

You lean up and press kisses against him, his smooth skin already damp with his arousal, your own crotch aching. His fluids are vaguely sour-sweet, you note as you let your tongue drift out to trace the outline of his folds before darting between them. His anatomy is remarkably similar to your own, right down to the small nub that elicits a soft, needy noise from him when you circle it with your tongue.

He grumbles curses under his breath when you move away from it, flicking your tongue down to taste him properly. Part of you is desperate for stimulation, but he moans again as you slowly lick his entrance, and getting Karkat to turn into a vocal mess of desire is more than enough for you right now. You can’t get your tongue very far into his nook, but it’s still enough to have him tugging at your hair. Emboldened, you grab his bare ass with both hands, gripping him and lowering him just slightly so that you don’t have to strain your neck as much. His juices smear onto your chin as your tongue returns to his clit - whatever trolls call it - and licks it slowly.

Each time your tongue flicks against it, a tiny sound escapes him. You’d make fun of him for being so noisy if you weren’t otherwise occupied, but damn, you admit with a hint of ego, you like knowing how well you’re doing. You move your tongue faster, licking up and down with as much pressure as you can apply. His body tenses up, ass tightening under your grip, and he presses himself down further against your mouth. You firmly pull him back despite his protests - there’s no way you can keep doing this properly if he’s totally smothering you - and hold him in place as you continue with a fast but steady pace.

Your face is smeared with spit and his sticky fluids and you really couldn’t give a shit. You ignore the beginning of fatigue cramping in your neck and resist the urge to let go of him to free up a hand to touch yourself. All of your attention is on his delicious body, his rounded ass, and his escalating noises, each one louder than the last.

Your patience is rewarded when he doesn’t just moan, he screams, hands twisting painfully in your hair, genetic material splashing against your chin. You keep licking him as he rides out the orgasm until he’s quiet and trembling. His hands shakes as he releases your hair and climbs off to cuddle up next to you in post-orgasmic collapse.


End file.
